


Ink

by CausticCupcake



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Feels, Hurt, Tattoo, fresh ink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 05:57:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1376404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CausticCupcake/pseuds/CausticCupcake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean gets the famed Tattoo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ink

**Author's Note:**

> I've been living in Florence, Italy for the last 22 days (23 more to go!) and decided to go get my second tattoo today to mark my stay. I was so full of energy and adrenaline afterwards I decided to write about it.

The inside smelled like incense. The main sitting area was dimly lit and warm. There were portfolios full of designs overflowing off the coffee table surrounded by a black wrap-around couch. There were motorcycles off to the side of one room roped off with a sign that read “do not touch”, old tattoo convention posters and pictures of the owner plastered all over the walls.   
He looked a lot like Ozzy Osborne and the guitarist of Guns and Roses. He had long black hair that was starting to grey tied back. His ears were pierced several times, thick metal hoops stuck through them. He smelled like smoke and rock and roll.   
Next to the desk where the register sat (with a very cute receptionist, Dean noted) there was a case full of animal skulls, old tattoo guns and things that were alive once but were dead now and stuffed in jars. Steer skulls decorated the wall by the door, sleek-looking cases that held stainless steel jewelry stood out against the dimly lit room.   
Once through the initial explanation and the wait, Dean sat in a padded chair with his shirt off, staring down an alligator skull. He smelled like a hospital, and hospitals made him itch. Ludo applied the template to Dean’s chest, a little left from his heart.   
“First one?” The old tattoo artist asked, preparing the gun.   
Dean smiled and nodded, his stomach tightening some. He fought monsters for a living, needles so did not make him nervous.   
Ludo started the gun, and the hairs on the back of Dean’s neck stood up. He dipped the needle of the gun into a little cup of ink, swirling it around some. The sound the gun made—it was the single most soothing and terrifying sound Dean had ever heard. It wasn’t exactly a screech, but it wasn’t a hum either. It lay somewhere in between, what Dean decided was its own category of sound. Unique. Like them.   
The hum came closer as Ludo set himself up on Dean’s chest, preparing to make the first mark.   
It bit into Dean, causing him to close his eyes and let out a slow breath. It didn’t exactly hurt. It was more annoying than anything. Just felt like he was being scratched. Ludo had turned Dean’s head away to give him more room to work and Dean found himself shutting his eyes, drawing the picture of the symbol getting scarred into his body in his mind, following the artists calculated movements. Some areas stung like a fresh burn, while others he could hardly feel at all. The adrenaline bubbled inside Dean, pooling to the area on his chest.   
“What’s it mean?” The old artist grunted, pulling Dean from his thoughts.   
It took him a second to figure out what he was referring to.   
“Oh. Uhm, it’s for my old man. He died a few months back.” Dean said, glad he could focus on the pulsating steel in his chest instead of the empty void he felt every time his dad was brought up.   
“Seems a little… occultish.” Ludo said, glancing at Dean for half a second.   
Dean was a little surprised that the man put that together.   
“Yeah, he was into studying symbols and stuff. This one’s for protection. He had a necklace that he always wore with this symbol on it.”   
Ludo nodded, turning away for a minute to load the gun up with more ink. Dean appreciated that he wasn’t pressed any further and closed his eyes again, focusing on the sting. It felt nice, he decided, being able to just feel something for once. The last several months had been incredibly difficult for Dean, but then again, Dean’s whole life had been incredibly difficult for Dean.   
The lack of stinging sensation brought Dean from his thoughts and he turned his head.   
“I said, come check it out.” Ludo said, beckoning Dean to a mirror over by the sink in the corner.   
Dean stood on legs a little wobbly from the surge of adrenaline and made his way to the sink. He studied the new mark on his body, lightly brushing it with his fingers and wincing at the burn. He turned and grabbed his shirt from the counter, tugging it over his head.   
“Thanks.” He murmured as he strode out to the lobby.   
He found Sam absently flipping through a portfolio when he looked up.   
“How’d it go?” Sam asked his brother nervously.   
“Fine.” Dean said gruffly, not stopping. “I’m going to go get some air. You’re up.”   
He slid into the leather seat of the Impala, breathing in it’s smell. He turned on the radio and turned it up, realizing it was his favorite song. He put his head on the steering wheel, taking a few gulping breaths. He was not crying right now. Dean Winchester didn’t cry.   
He fingered the fresh wound on his chest once more, savoring the feeling.

“It won’t ever happen again, Dad.” He whispered.


End file.
